The Toughest Struggle of my Life.
I swam a few strokes, and then wading gently and without noise, I stood upon the sandy shore.
With shivering frame and dripping garments, I stood, uncertain what course to pursue. I was upon the opposite side of the lake—I mean opposite to where I had entered it. I had chosen that side intentionally, lest the bear should suddenly return. He might deposit the carcass in his lair, and come back to look after me. It is a habit of these animals, when not pressed by immediate hunger, to bury their food or store it in their caves. Even the devouring of the little antelope would have been an affair of only a few minutes’ time, and the bear might still return, more ravenous that he had tasted blood.
I was filled with irresolution. Should I run off across the plain beyond the reach of pursuit? I should have to return again for my horse and rifle. To take to the prairie on foot would be like going to sea without a boat. Even had I been sure of reaching the settlements in safety without my horse, I could not think of leaving him behind. I loved my Moro too well for that: I would have risked life itself rather than part with the noble creature. No; the idea of deserting him was not entertained for a moment.
But how was I to join him? The only path by which I could cross the barranca had just been taken by the bear. The latter was no doubt still upon it, in the bottom of the ravine. To attempt passing over would be to bring myself once more under the eyes of the fierce brute; and I should certainly become his victim.
Another idea suggested itself—to go up the barranca, and find a crossing, or else head the chasm altogether, and come down upon the opposite side. That was possibly the best plan to pursue.
I was about starting forward to execute it, when, to my dismay, I again beheld the bear; this time, not upon the same side with myself, but upon the opposite one, where Moro was picketed!
He was just climbing out of the ravine when I first saw him—slowly dragging his huge body over the escarpment of the cliff. In a moment he stood erect upon the open plain.
I was filled with a new consternation; I perceived too surely that he was about to attack the horse!
The latter had already observed the bear’s approach, and seemed to be fully aware of his danger. I had staked him at the distance of about four hundred yards from the barranca, and upon a lazo of about twenty in length. At sight of the bear he had run out to the end of his trail-rope, and was snorting and plunging with affright.